The Fifth Musketeer
by Siampie1990
Summary: Sequel to My life with the Musketeers. Her fellow Musketeers came back from the war and together, they are once again cleaning the streets of Paris. But an ennemy is lurking in the dark. More dangerous and ruthless than the Cardinal or Rochefort ever was. Uncover what she had been through during the last five years and how it changed her. A war is raging still. Athos/OC
1. Chapter 1

_**Chapter 1**_

 _ **Thanks for reading this story. This is a sequel to "My life with the Musketeers"**_

 _ **New Story, read, enjoy and review.**_

* * *

The swords clashed. The sounds echoing in the yard of the garrison. The cadets were making progress but they needed more training.

"Watch your feet, Brujon." The female musketeers instructed the young cadet. "Deauville, your defenses are weak. They need to be stronger; it could make the difference between surviving or dying." The two cadets nodded at her instructions. "One more time."

The sparring resumed as Emmanuelle was watching them. Five years have passed since her friends left to fight the war. Years within which Paris has grown harder and dirtier. A new player has entered the game. A new player named Phillippe Achille, Marquis de Feron. The King's half-brother and new Captain of the Red Guards. Speaking of which, they had grown stronger since the Musketeers left for war. They were terrorizing and bullying the people of Paris. The Musketeers that were left behind, were less in numbers and overtime, they too have been called to war. Leaving only the Cadets. Things had definitely changed for the worse.

Emmanuelle, also changed. Hardened by the life in Paris, she was constantly fighting the Red Guards and Marquis de Feron's efforts to abuse the people. People that were starved and afraid of the authorities. They didn't even trust the Musketeers anymore. Adding to this, The Minster Tréville entrusted her with missions of importace. Missions that required her to leave Paris for several days at a time. Leaving Constance D'Artagnan on her own.

"Emma!" A young boy called rushing to her, holding a sealed letter in his hands.

"Thank you, Petit Lord." She smiled down at the boy.

Charles has grown over the years. Now, twelve years old, he moved in the garrison three years ago. He wanted to live with Emma. But more importantly, he wanted to become a Musketeer. Emmanuelle did not refuse him his request to live at the garrison but being too young to be a cadet, she refused him his desire to enroll. Of course, sometimes she would teach him a few things such as shooting or how to properly swordfight. Mostly, Charles was helping Constance and her, to keep the garrison standing. By doing several chores. Mucking out the stables, tending the horses, helping the cadets sharpening their swords, etc.

Emmanuelle opened the sealed letter. She recognized the fine letters. She let out a deep breath. "Fetch my horse, Lordling." She ordered to Charles. "Brujon, Deauville, that's enough for today. We'll do this again later." She climbed the stairs to the Captain's office where Constance was managing the finances of the garrison.

"What is it?" Constance asked Emmanuelle as soon as the latter stepped in the office.

"I'm expected at the Palace." She answered putting her black doublet over her corset and purple shirt. "Minister Tréville wants to see me."

"Another mission?" Constance asked as Emmanuelle was now slipping her leather pad over her right shoulder.

"The message does not say." She answered taking her cloak and hat. "Although I wouldn't surprised if it was." And grabbed her gloves. "Petit Lord is in the yard with the Cadets, make sure he's doing his chores."

"He's already done most of his chores. I allowed him a few hours of rest." Constance smiled at Emmanuelle. "You should not keep the Minister waiting."

Emmanuelle nodded and left.

* * *

Her musketeers' uniform was brand new. Her purple shirt was darker than before, almost blue. Over her purple shirt, she wore a dark corset and a dark skirt with intricate purple patterns, drawn on it. The skirt was open in the front. You wouldn't know unless she climbed on a horse. It was designed this way, to make it easier for her to ride or fight. Underneath the skirt she wore dark pair trousers and mid-calf boots. Her hat, too, was brand new. Unlike the old one, the feathers were now black and brown. Even the cloak went under drastic change. Where it used to be blue, it was now light brown and made of leather. As for her doublet it was long sleeved and it reached her thighs.

She climbed down her horse and made her way to Tréville's office. The office once belonged to the Cardinal Richelieu and Count Rochefort. Both shown themselves to be dangerous foes to the crown. Rochefort more than Richelieu, almost succeeding in what Richelieu failed to do. Discrediting and disbanding the Musketeers. He failed of course but war was declared and the Musketeers were all gone. However, Tréville was a friend of the Musketeers and disliked Feron and the Red Guards as much as she did. Before being First Minister, Tréville was the former Captain of the Musketeers. She knew it would be the last person to try and disband the Musketeers. If anything, he would protect them.

"Minister." Emmanuelle greeted as she was let in his office. "You said it was urgent."

"Emma. As you know our common friend was on a mission for the Crown." Minister Tréville started.

"In Bordeaux, I know. What about it?" Emma frowned as Tréville gave her a letter written by the hand of Lady Catherine

"Madame Catherine was supposed to receive words but none came." Tréville continued. "In fact, she fears that the Countess may have been discovered."

"That may be." Emma agreed. "This could be dangerous for France."

"Precisely." Tréville nodded. "This is why I'm giving you a leave of absence. I know that the Baroness De Sauvignon is organizing a service for the anniversary of your parents' passing." Tréville continued.

"Thanks for the cover up story." Emmanuelle mumbled.

Minister Tréville stepped closer to her. "While you are there, you will find out what happened to her and uncover whatever information she has gathered." Tréville instructed her. "You have a month. After this, you must return to Paris. With or without that information. Understood?"

"Understood." She nodded tightly. "It says here that she was supposed to come back from Valences Was that the location of her mission? I mean there is no strategic point there, whether for France or Spain"

"No, Valences was a quick stop." The Minister answered. "I have sent her in the Duchy of Savoy." Tréville answered briefly. "I want you to bring her back, Emma."

"I will." Emmanuelle nodded and left his office.

She had questions but knew that the Minister was not one to share sensible information. He must have his reasons to not reveal to her why his spy was in Savoy.

* * *

Catherine De Sauvignon, Emmanuelle's maternal grandmother, had taken part in the war efforts in many ways. First, by offering shelter to the refugees of War and they were many to stop at Bordeaux before rejoining Paris. Then, by relaying vital information to Tréville on the Spanish troops movements thus helping France to better organize its own army.

When the war started, Emmanuelle had quickly shown concern for her Grandmother's safety. Bordeaux is quite close to the Spanish borders but Minister Tréville was quick in establishing a naval fleet under the charge of Archbishop of Bordeaux, Henri D'Escoubleau de Sourdis. The Baronness of Bordeaux had established a solid relationship with the commander. And in regards of her new function in the war efforts, he needed her as much as she needed him. They were helping each other. Of course, Lady Catherine was one of many that were helping the crown. By relaying vital information, uncovering the fleet positions, any weaknesses behind the enemy lies. Missions that had been assigned to Emmanuelle, herself.

* * *

It was a long week journey to Bordeaux. As Emmanuelle rode through town, she was sad to realize that there were as much as refugees as there were in Paris. She just hoped that they weren't as mistreated as they were in Paris. The people in town, knew her and slightly bowed their heads as she rode passed them. They knew that she was a musketeer but also the granddaughter of their protector.

"Mademoiselle Emma!" She heard someone call her.

"Planchet." She greeted the young man. "Did Madame Catherine send you?"

"Yes, Mademoiselle." Planchet nodded quickly. "She was expecting you. Do you wish to rest before going to the mansion?"

"I have missed her. All I wish is to see her." Emmanuelle smiled at Planchet.

* * *

"Emma, my love." Catherine embraced her tightly.

"Catherine, it's always a pleasure to see you." Emmanuelle said.

"Let's go to my office." Catherine suggested. "Planchet, bring us some tea."

"Yes, Madame."

Emmanuelle took off her gloves as she followed Catherine to her office. "When did you last have news of her?"

"The last I heard of her she was in Valences. She was letting me know that she was coming to visit me." Catherine explained as she closed the door behind her. "She had lived here. It wouldn't be unusual for her to visit me."

"Nothing suspicious for an outsider looking in." Emmanuelle commented. "There was nothing of importance in the letter?"

"You know how she works." Catherine said. "This woman was born for this."

"I had to ask." Emmanuelle apologized.

Planchet knocked and walked in with a silver plate on which there was two cups and a teapot. "Thank you, Planchet. I don't want us to be disturbed." Catherine asked him. He only bowed and walked out of the room. "All I know is that she informed me of her arrival to be on the fifth of this month."

"That was exactly two weeks ago." Emmanuelle frowned at Catherine. "How did you have wind of her disappearance so soon?"

"Her maid." The Baroness answered. "A young girl named Kitty. She was the one that was delivering the letters to me." Catherine had walked up to the door and opened it. "Planchet, bring her."

A few seconds later, a young woman with fair skin and dark hair walked in. She was what many would call plain. There was nothing special about her, she seemed timid and quiet. Qualities for which her mistress may have hired her.

"I'm Emmanuelle of the King's musketeers. I'm here to look for your mistress." Emmanuelle greeted, pulling out a chair and sat her down. "I know you delivered the letter to Lady Catherine here. Could you tell me what was your mistress's instructions? Precisely." She handed the girl a cup of tea.

"Tell her what you told me, girl. She can be trusted." Catherine encouraged her. "Don't be frightened."

She looked at Emmanuelle, clutching the cup in her hands. As if the warmth would give her strength. "We were travelling back from Savoy and we stopped in Valences, two days later. To rest." She started looking Emmanuelle in the eyes. "I was ordered to go on ahead of her. My duty as her servant was to give words of her arrival to the Baroness. After delivering the letter, I was to wait for her in the village."

"What happened?" Emmanuelle asked her.

Kitty looked down at her hands. "I was supposed to leave the morning after our arrivals in Valences." She explained. "But she made me leave sooner. She urged me to go on that night."

"Do you know why?" Emmanuelle asked.

"She did not say it but she appeared agitated. Afraid even."

"Something has frightened her?" Emmanuelle asked surprised. Kitty nodded.

"I was surprised as you are when I heard it." Catherine continued. "It takes a great deal for her to be frightened."

"Did you notice anything? Anything at all?" Emmanuelle asked Kitty. The young maid just shook her head. Emmanuelle nodded before looking up at Planchet. "Planchet." She said and Planchet nodded at her and led Kitty back outside of the office. After he put the teacup back on the tray.

Emmanuelle sat down, replacing Kitty in the chair. "What do you think?" Catherine asked her.

"How long have you known the girl?" Emmanuelle asked instead.

"Well, until she came here to deliver this message, I didn't know she existed." Catherine answered. "Do you think she might be lying?"

"I don't know." Emmanuelle shook her head. "Everything is possible." She exhaled. "I will go to Valences."

"Today?"

"Tomorrow." Emmanuelle stood up. "Kitty is coming with me. And if you can spare Planchet, I'm going to need someone I can trust."

"Of course." Catherine nodded. "Just tell me what you need and I'll see to it."

* * *

Kitty had lead them to the inn in which she last saw her mistress. They seemed barely disturbed by the newcomers. Travelers mainly were occupying the seats. The musketeer could tell from the cloaks they were wearing. The numerous coaches that were waiting outsides and the stables full of horses. It seemed that she had entered neutral ground, she could clearly tell that some of them were Spaniards They were less in numbers that her compatriots They didn't look frightened, actually no one seemed to pay attention to them.

Of course, there was nothing there. No one had seen anything, no one remembered her mistress. Emmanuelle didn't believe it for one second. That's why Planchet came in later, he was just another traveler. No ties with Emmanuelle or Kitty who just asked questions about a missing woman. In fact, Emmanuelle was mainly suspecting the Spaniards. The spy was on her way back to Paris after her mission for the court. Maybe, she was noticed and they tried to stop her before they could report to Paris. But knowing the woman, it was highly unlikely. Moreover, none of them were wearing soldiers' attire which could be explained by them not wanting to be noticed. Or maybe it was actually French soldiers that stopped her. That was a lot of maybes. However, Planchet was not to ask questions about their spy. His mission was simple. All he had to do was to drink with the locals. Not the travelers, the locals. If there was something out of the usual, they would be the ones to notice.

* * *

It was well into the night, when Planchet came to her. She had taken a room for the night. A room that she shared with Kitty. The young maid was resting for now. The musketeer didn't trust her still. Something wasn't right in Kitty's story. She just couldn't tell what. When Planchet knocked at her door, she was sitting facing the only entrance of the room. Her sword was resting by her chair and her pistol was on her lap. The four discreet knocks caused Kitty to sit up in the bed. Emmanuelle put her index to her lips, signaling the girl to remain quiet. She walked to the door. Her pistol ready. She peeked through the door when she saw it was Planchet, she let him in.

"So?" She asked as she closed the door behind her. Kitty left the bed while Planchet sat on the edge of it.

"The people aren't too happy about the travelers passing through their town." Planchet explained, slightly drunk. "Especially the Spaniards."

"Anything that might interest us?" Emmanuelle asked.

"I'm not sure, Mademoiselle." Planchet frowned, Kitty handed him a glass of water. "Thank you. The men I talked with mentioned that most travelers were only staying for the night. Enough time to rest before going back on the road." Planchet drank his water. "But a few remains."

"Who are they?"

"Spaniards soldiers" Planchet answered. "They weren't here tonight. In fact, they do not come to the inn. If only to buy wine."

"How long have they been in town?"

"A little more than a month." Planchet informed her. "Their leader, a certain Captain Montoya, has arrived almost three weeks ago. From Savoy."

"Captain Montoya?" Emmanuelle glanced at Kitty who suddenly blanched at the name. "You know him, don't you?"

She nodded tears gathering in her eyes. "He was my master in Savoy." Kitty's voice was trembling.

"Your master? I thought you were the Countess' maidservant?" Emmanuelle asked the scared girl.

"I entered her service in Savoy." She started to explain. "Captain Montoya was meeting with the Duke. It was a desperate attempt to get the Duke to sign a treaty with Spain. In exchange, they were promised to regain Pinerolo. But the Duke refused. Swearing once again his fealty to the Crown of France."

"This is all interesting but that doesn't tell me why you left his service and entered the Countess'." Emmanuelle stared at her.

"And how you possibly know all of this?" Planchet questioned in his turn.

"The Captain never considered me a threat. I was nothing." Kitty said. "I am nothing. Merely just a toy." Emmanuelle was surprised at her tone. She could the hatred behind her words. "Some weak creature that he tortured just because." It was as if Emmanuelle was seeing her for the first time. She wasn't as timid as she shown herself to be in Bordeaux. She seemed enraged, angry, scared but ready to fight. "The Countess found me. She saw what he did to me after the Duke refused to sign the treaty." Kitty paused. "You don't have to trust me but Miss Hay has saved my life. I will do what I can to return the favor."

"Alright." Emmanuelle nodded. "Montoya is most likely the one who is holding her captive. And no matter what you say or don't say, he's getting back at her for taking you away." She turned to Planchet. "Some one in this town will be bound to talk in exchange of a good pay. Find where Montoya and his soldiers are staying. We'll go from there." Planchet nodded and took the purse she was handing him. "You don't have to tell me what Montoya has done to you. But it must have been terrible for the Countess to step in." The Musketeer turned away from the girl. "Can you use pistols or a sword?" She asked the girl.

"A little." Kitty answered timidly.

"That'll do. We're gonna need all the help we can get." She was expecting for the girl to protest, to show herself frightful but it wasn't the case. Kitty showed herself to be fierce; determined as she nodded yes to the Musketeer.

* * *

Emmanuelle knew Kitty's mistress or rather savior to be the selfish kind at times. For her to get involved and ignore everything she established herself to be, the girl must have been treated cruelly by this Montoya. Some men can be cruel when given the means. The Musketeer had seen it over the years, good men had often showed themselves to be cruel and brutal. Of course, for some it seemed to be a lesson learned during their younger years. For others, war had made them so. War had turned them into something that they couldn't recognize themselves. After all, you aren't born a monster, you're made one.

* * *

Kitty and Emmanuelle followed the young boy that delivered Planchet's message to them. He had located Captain Montoya and his men. They were staying in a two-story house; on the outskirts of town. Emmanuelle remembered to have passed it as they entered town.

"No one is guarding the door." Planchet explained. Then he pointed to the window on the second floor. "There are two guards. Every two hours, two new guards take over."

"Montoya?"

"He left hours ago." Planchet said. "He seemed to be angry."

"Were you able to locate the Countess?"

"No. But I think she may be near those two guards." Planchet speculated.

"Alright." Emmanuelle said as they hid behind the wall. Kitty was standing between her and Planchet. "Is there a way for us to get in without being seen?"

"We could go through the kitchen. But it also could be dangerous." Planchet suggested. "There is a balcony on the left side. The door is always open."

"That's good news." Emmanuelle was thinking fast. This was their chance to free Miss Lucy Hay. "Planchet, you and Kitty," She started placing her hat on Kitty's head, making sure that no one could recognize her face. "Go in the back, create a diversion. No one must catch you." She looked down at Kitty and put her own pistol in the girl's hand. "Wait for me, don't engage. Only if necessary. Understood?"

"Yes, Mademoiselle." Planchet nodded.

"Stay together." She ordered them.

* * *

All of three of them entered the yard. There were no one in sight. They walked alongside each other, trotting to the house. They separated ways when they reached the balcony. Planchet continued towards the kitchen. He pulled Kitty behind him They both hid behind a cart near the stables. Emmanuelle took a last look around her, making sure there was still no one in sight. She stepped out from under the balcony. While Planchet and Kitty walked up to the kitchen door. With barrels of wine in their arms. Emmanuelle took a deep breath, she sprinted into the wall. Her right foot met the wall at full speed which gave her momentum as she pushed and reached the bars of the balcony with her hands. Her body was now hanging and swinging in the air as she pulled herself up.

She jumped over the balcony and quickly hid behind the open door. The guards that were in the room were in the middle of a game of cards. Nonetheless, one of them stood up, maybe alerted by the sound of her landing. He walked towards the balcony, Emmanuelle stood in silence. Ready to fight if need to. At that instant, a woman shrieked somewhere in the house. He froze mid step as his fellow soldiers sprang to their feet while the woman kept screaming. After that she heard them rush out of the room.

Emmanuelle stepped into the room and crossed in a few strides. The door was left open, she peeked around the door. Men and women were rushing down the stairs. She didn't know what Planchet and Kitty did but it was working to her advantage. The less people there was in her way, the easier this rescue would be. The room she was looking for was the furthest away from the stairs. The hallway and the rooms were empty but the same couldn't be said about the one she had interest in. She was nearing the room when the door opened and a guard stepped outside. Confusion clearly written all over his face. He was even more confused when he saw the Musketeer walking towards him.

It all happened within seconds. He immediately pulled out his pistol and aimed at her. The woman didn't stop, on the contrary she quickened her pace. She closed the distance between them before the Spaniard could even think of firing his weapon. She kicked him in his chest, sending him flying in the wall behind him. Another guard came rushing out of the room. His pistol in his hand ready to fire. She grabbed his arm and pulled it towards her and pushed him against the opposite wall. He lost his pistol. She backhanded him and grabbed onto his shoulders. The guard grabbed onto her arms and kneed her in the stomach. He shifted their position, he slammed her back against the wall and backhanded her. She dodged his fist, that collided with the wall above her head. She punched him in his stomach and he hunched over. She then punched his jaw and he fell on the floor. She went for the pistol on the floor. Instead of shooting, she used the butt of the pistol to knock him out as he tried to attack her again.

She was now breathing heavily. She hooked his pistol to her belt and grabbed the set of keys hooked to his belt. She walked up to the first guard that seemed to be unconscious. She grabbed his pistol and she heard a groan. She didn't think twice as she used the pistol to put him out of commission. She walked into the room they were in and discovered that it was empty. However, there was a closed door. She unlocked it with the keys that she took from the guards. And there sitting in the middle of the room, tied to the chair, the Countess of Carlisle.

"You took your time." The Countess said as a form of greetings as the musketeer started to cut her bounds.

"If I didn't know any better I'd say you're happy to see me, Milady." Emmanuelle joked in return. When she crouched down in front of the woman, she was mortified to see that her beautiful face was bruised. There was a cut on right cheekbones and her bottom lip swollen. "You look terrible."

"So, do you." She answered.

"Can you walk?" Emmanuelle asked her while giving her a pistol.

"Yes." The woman replied.

They both walked into the other room. Emmanuelle took a cloak that one of the guards had left hanging on a chair. And draped it over the Countess' shoulders. She looked out of the window to see that people were running away from the house while some were rushing towards it. "I don't know what Planchet and Kitty did but it'll work to our advantage."

"What about Montoya?"

"We'll be gone before he comes back." Emmanuelle assured her. They both exited the room and rushed towards the stairs.

They could hear the people screaming and shouting orders as they walked down the stairs. No one was paying attention to them. And understandably so, the room was filled with smoke. They reached the door and together they ran within the crowd. Planchet and Kitty were waiting for them outside of the gate. Planchet gave his hat to the Countess, so she could cover her face. Then the four of them walked back to the inn.

* * *

They couldn't linger any longer. It wouldn't take long for Montoya's men to realize that their hostage was missing. Montoya was probably on his way back. They had to leave immediately. Once they reached the inn, Planchet was charged with getting the horses ready. Kitty was packing their bags and the Countess was having a change of clothes.

"Be honest with me." Emmanuelle started as Milady was pulling her hood on. "Did he hurt you in any other way? You know did he…?"

"No, he wasn't interested in that." She answered. "He never was. He only wanted to know where the girl was hiding. And what she may have told me."

She finished tying up her cloak under her right arm. She adjusted her hat on her head and took a bag from Kitty before going through the door. Miss Hay and Kitty walked ahead of her. Emmanuelle paid for the room before joining Planchet and the others at the stable. Planchet had managed to find a fourth horse. And they left Valences.

* * *

They stopped at Bordeaux where Emmanuelle had to keep up appearances. Madame Catherine De Sauvignon had indeed organized a service for her parents. Which Emmanuelle attended with her grandmother. They remained for the night. The Baroness organized a private dinner for her and the Countess.

Later that night, she knocked on the Countess' door. She stepped in only to see Milady De Winter sitting in front of her mirror.

"If you're worried about the state of your face, let me tell you that men will still find you deadly attractive." Emmanuelle teased her as she sat on the bed.

"Thank you for this kind compliment." The Countess smiled turning towards her.

"Anything to please you." The Musketeer smiled back. "Kitty said that you seemed scared when you sent her to Bordeaux."

"What about it?"

"You weren't afraid for you. You were for her." Emmanuelle continued.

"Montoya is a cruel man." The Countess said somberly. "I've seen the scars he left on her back. He was getting pleasure from her sufferings. If he had found her in that inn, he would have killed her."

"I've never seen you care for anyone but you."

"You have yourself to blame for this, musketeer." She retorted.

Emmanuelle snorted. "Anyway, the Minister wants me to bring you back to Paris with me."

"Why?"

"I have no idea. Those are his orders." Emmanuelle stood up. "We're leaving tomorrow."

"Kitty is accompanying to Paris." She said with finality in her voice.

"Naturally." And with that the Musketeer left the room.

* * *

Emmanuelle had left in the early hours of morning, accompanied by Kitty and the Countess. She was at peace knowing that her grandmother was protected by her valet, Planchet. He had shown his worth and loyalty during the last years. Planchet was efficient, in fact, Emmanuelle was surprised that the thought of being a soldier never crossed his mind. Nonetheless, he was often tasked with secret mission that valet had no business doing. And he was more efficient that some soldiers would be. She felt herself lucky to know that he was serving her grandmother.

Kitty was still a timid ad shy girl but she was grateful for what the Countess and the Musketeer had done to help her. They had taken her away from her torturer. Milady De Winter took the girl under her wing because Kitty was a valuable source of information. She knew more about the Spanish troops and their supplies that the Countess could have possibly found during her missions. But Kitty also reminded her of who she could have been. She was lucky enough to have been born smart and cunning but not Kitty. The girl wasn't stupid but she lacked the courage to take matters in her own hands. She had every intention to change that.

* * *

Minister Tréville stepped into his office to see the three women expecting him. "I'm glad to see that you have returned safely from your journey." He said as a form of greetings.

"We're glad to be back." Emmanuelle answered. "And I'm on time."

"Efficient as always." The Minister commented. "I hope your mission was successful, Milady."

"This is Kitty. She has interesting information for us." Milady De Winter said introducing the timid girl. "In exchange of protection, of course."

"Good." Tréville nodded. "I will be glad to hear them but first…" He handed to Milady a roll of parchment. The spy opened it and read what was written. "Those are your new orders."

"I am to stay in Paris?" Milady questioned.

"Yes, there's a war to be fought in the streets of Paris." Tréville answered. "I will need the bests."

* * *

Emmanuelle returned at the garrison. She was exhausted, her cheek was still slightly bruised but she was happy. She liked it when the mission went well. As simple as this one. All she had to do was to extract their agent and come back to Paris and she did. Simple and easy Petit Lord took her horse to the stable as she went to the mess. She had the desire to drink some wine before sleeping for several hours. She untied her cloak on her way there and as she walked through door she was met with the sound of laughter. Laughter that sounded familiar to her ears. She froze seeing to whom it belonged.

"Athos." She breathed out.

* * *

 **Fun facts: 1. Milady De Winter is believed to be based off of Miss Lucy Hay, the Countess of Carlisle.**

 **2\. Planchet and Kitty was respectively the valet of D'Artagnan and the maid of Milady De Winter in the Novel by Dumas.**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Chapter 2**_

 _ **Thanks for reading this story. Thanks to pallysd'Artagnan, to LegandsOfTime, to stories as old as time, to hprwhg00 and to Guest for their reviews. Thanks to all the followers and the one who favorited this story.**_

 _ **New Chapter, read, enjoy and review.**_

* * *

A huge grin broke Emma's face. She flung herself in Athos' arms. Her cloak fell on the floor. Athos lifted her off the floor as she giggled happily. He put her back down and she pulled away slightly.

"You look terrible." She smiled then hugged him again.

"Leave some for us." Porthos chuckled.

Emma pulled away from Athos and hugged Porthos and Aramis. "D'Artagnan?"

"Probably making up for lost time." Aramis chuckled.

Emma smiled. "I'm happy to have you back. All of you." She looked at all three of them. "Welcome Home."

* * *

Emma hung her cloak on her chair by the window. Athos closed the door behind them. Emma was taking off her gloves. Athos stood behind her, she could feel his hot breath against her skin. He pushed away her hair from her neck. He laid a kiss in the crook of her neck Another on her shoulder. Emma let out a deep breath as she slightly turned her head. Their lips met for the first time in five years. They pulled away, Emma twisted her body around. Now, chest to chest, they resumed their kiss.

Many years had passed since they were last together. Truly together. She had forgotten the feel of his skin on hers, the feel of his lips on hers. She had forgotten how his hair felt between her fingers. She had almost forgotten the feel of him.

Her corset joined his shirt on the floor. His hand went under her shirt and behind her back, her skin burning under his touch. He held her tighter as they slowly moved towards the bed. Her back hit the mattress. Athos dropped his trousers on the floor, he was now pulling hers. He was naked and crawled on top of her. He unbuttoned her shirt, leaving it open. He kissed her collarbone, her breasts, she moaned loudly. She needed him, she wanted him as much as he wanted her. As much as he needed her. "Athos, please." She moaned. Athos kissed Emma and in one thrust, he filled her.

He was home.

* * *

His chest moved rhythmically under her cheek. Her hand rested on his chest. Athos was home, Emma thought. At last, he was with her. During five years, she felt as though she couldn't breathe. Never knowing what he had become. Not knowing if he was injured, lost or dead. But with Constance, they waited. And hoped that their loved ones would come back. And they did. She laid a kiss on his chest She shifted slightly, leaning her chin on his chest. His fingers grazed the bruise on her cheek.

"What happened?" He asked softly.

"Nothing I couldn't face." She answered.

Emma moved up slightly and kissed him. Killing on his lips any questions or any words he might have had. The kiss ignited the fire of passion, once again. His arms went around her back and shoulders as he tightened his hold on her. He rolled them over so he was on top of her. She remembered the feel of his skin on hers, the feel of his lips on hers. She remembered how his hair felt between her fingers. She remembered the feel of him.

* * *

Emmanuelle was awake at the first light of morning. Athos was still soundly asleep. She hadn't dreamed him. He was really here, he was home. She closed the door behind her quietly.

"Good morning, Emma." Constance greeted the musketeer as the latter walked down the stairs. "Great night?"

Emma chuckled as they met down the stairs. "Great night." She nodded. "You?"

"Great night." Constance grinned at her. They both laughed.

"So, are you ready to go?" Emma asked crossing her arms over her chest.

"We are about to leave." Constance answered. "I'm bringing Charles with me."

"I thought you would still be in bed with Athos." D'Artagnan said from behind her.

"The garrison needs taken care of." Emma simply answered.

D'Artagnan hugged her. "It's good to see you, Nellie."

"Don't call me Nellie." She berated not meaning it as she was smiling. "It's good to see you too." She added pulling away.

"Come on, D'Artagnan." Constance called climbing in the cart. The cadets waiting for her by it. "I don't want us to be late."

"I don't think she understood what I meant by spending the morning together." D'Artagnan grumbled walking up to the cart.

Emmanuelle snorted before saying. "Be carfeul, Constance."

"Always." She said as D'Artagnan helped Charles into the cart. And they left with the Cadets escort.

* * *

Two against one. Porthos and Athos against Aramis. The remaining cadets and Emma were watching as the three men clashed their swords. Emmanuelle leaned on the railings while Athos backhanded Aramis. She winced as Porthos punched him in his stomach. She wasn't really sure it was all in good jest.

"Do you need to hit so hard?" Aramis asked angrily.

"How hard do you think they're hitting out there?" Athos asked him back. He exchanged a meaningful glance with Porthos before Aramis attacked them again.

War had definitely scarred the musketeers. Emmanuelle didn't know how deep they went. Aramis had been spared. He had been living in a monastery for the last five years while the rest were on the battlefield. Emmanuelle would love to pretend that she, too, had been spared. But War had reached the borders of Paris. Refugees coming in masses. Sometimes she was sent to the battlefield. Stopping the Spanish troops before they could have any sort of advantages. War hadn't spared her. War had been everywhere.

"Two war heroes at once." Aramis announced clearly. "I deserve a medal."

The monastery hadn't lessened Aramis' skills as a swordsman. He was still an excellent fighter.

"Captain!" She heard someone called. "Captain!" It was Clairmont.

Emmanuelle climbed down the stairs. "What do you want?" Athos asked him.

"Captain, it's D'Artagnan." Clairmont answered. "There's a riot in Saint Antoine."

* * *

"Saint Antoine is where the refugee's settlement is." Emma explained on their way to Saint Antoine. "There have been tensions for months between the refugees and the Parisians. Every excuse is enough to attack them."

"What's going on here?" Aramis asked as they reached the settlement. Governor Feron was already there; with Constance and Marcheaux. "Where's D'Artagnan?"

"Ah, the rescue party." Feron exclaimed as he saw them. "You're late. The riot is over. The troublemakers have been apprehended."

Emmanuelle joined Constance's side. "They've arrested D'Artagnan with the others."

"Get involved with filth like this, and you will all face the consequences." Feron said.

"And what did they do this time, Governor?" Emmanuelle asked bitterly.

"Is stealing the Duke of Beaufort's grain not enough for you?" Feron retorted. "Thanks to them, the people of Paris will go hungry."

"How can you hide a thousand sacks of grain in here?" Constance asked him in return.

"Well, why don't we take a look?" Aramis suggested.

"I'm sure we'll get a confession before they are hanged in the morning." Feron said. "We always do."

"This is Paris." Athos reminded him. "They're entitle to a fair trial."

"Being in Paris, does not make one a Parisian." Feron sighed. "Or would you grant that status to the sewer rats?" And he walked away from them.

"Some rats have high enough status." Constance muttered.

Emmanuelle walked up to Athos. "This isn't the Paris you left." She told him sadly. "Not anymore."

* * *

The refugees were wary of the musketeers. Some of them knew Emma but they did not truly trust her. After all, they were wearing the uniforms of those who chased them from their home. It did not matter that they were trying to help. Their wounds ran deep. They too had been scarred by War.

"Clementine, please." Emmanuelle pleaded the woman. She was tending to a man. "We are only trying to help." The search had been fruitless.

"Why should I trust any of you?" Clementine asked her.

"You seem to know what you're doing." Aramis commented.

"I had a good teacher." Clementine answered. "Old Hubert understands medicine. Except, they would not let him work."

"The Duke of Beaufort claims that someone from this place stole his grain." Athos said. Emma looked at him disapprovingly. She did not believe that any of refugee had stolen that grain but they might have seen something.

"Look around." Clementine retorted. "All I see is women without husbands, children without parents."

"And medical supplies belonging to the garrison of Courcelles." Porthos said joining them.

"Sometimes stealing is a necessity. Not a choice." Clementine retorted.

"There's always a choice." Porthos said.

"Continue the search." Athos ordered them. None of them moved. "Is there a problem?"

"Where are they gonna hide a thousand sacks of grain, here?" Aramis asked them. "It's not possible, she's right."

"Doesn't prove they didn't take it." Porthos argued.

"Doesn't prove they did." Emma countered. "You can't seriously think that they did."

"We continue the search." Athos said again.

"Is that an order, Captain?" Aramis challenged him.

"It may be the only way to clear their names."

She continued the search as Athos ordered. She knew them to be innocent. It was true that not all of them were innocent. But the majority of them only wanted shelter. The refugees have had fallen victims to false accusations, to rape, to murders and to the plague. She had found herself to be powerless in most of those cases. But she did the best she could in the time that she was given. The Musketeer and Tréville had done what they could to show Paris, that there was still justice. In spite of their best efforts, some crimes went unpunished. Emmanuelle would not have them slaughtered. They had already suffered enough.

The refugees, at least those in Saint Antoine, knew what she had done for them. Knew she was trying. Unfortunately, she wasn't doing enough. For them, she could have done more.

The search had turned out to be pointless and fruitless. Well, not entirely. Athos had found pamphlets. Pamphlets that were in favor of the liberty and equality of the people. Inciting them to fight for it. To protest against the King's authority. It was considered treason. Emma knew it. As much as the authors of those pamphlets; Sylvie and Hubert. She had already warned them. Emmanuelle wasn't against it but she was also a musketeer and her duty was to the King. Her duty was to the protection of the Crown. And this went against it. No matter that their cause was just. This called for rebellion.

* * *

"Do you have more of these?" Athos asked Sylvie. The woman was facing him. Both sitting at his desk.

She refused to answer. "This could condemn the prisoners. D'Artagnan too." Constance told her worryingly.

"The pamphlet is old. The ink is faded." Aramis pointed out.

"Some would consider the ideas dangerous." Athos told her.

"My father would say they're only dangerous because they still matter." Sylvie answered.

"Oh, they're his ideas? What, he incited people?" Porthos challenged her.

"Inspired them."

"To revolt."

"To fight for change for a better life." Sylvie said. "Take a look around you. Would you really leave Paris as it is?"

"Madame D'Artagnan?" A distant voice called. "Madame D'Artagnan?" Clairmont burst into the Captain's office.

"We used to knock." Athos said looking at Clairmont.

"Sorry, Captain." Clairmont apologized.

"Clairmont?"

"I've found something."

Porthos, Aramis and Clairmont left with a group of cadets. Clairmont and some of the other cadets had found a man selling grains. The grains that had been stolen.

* * *

Athos and Emmanuelle were in her chambers, both unclothed, sitting on the bed.

"Your letters on the front said nothing of this." Athos said kissing her shoulders.

"My letters on the front didn't say many things." Emmanuelle placed her hands behind his neck. "It's been hard without you and the others. I have done the best I could. But I was limited by my uniform and my sex. And the War had only made things harder." She sighed. "You are not on the front anymore but we are still at War. Here in Paris. And the enemy is Governor Feron."

* * *

"Why stay here?" Athos asked Sylvie as they walked through the refugees' settlement.

"We will not be driven out by the Red Guards—or Musketeers." Sylvie replied.

"Do you trust anybody?"

"She doesn't." Emma replied for her.

"Every betrayal we ever suffered started with trust." Sylvie said.

"You should get out while you still can." Athos suggested.

"Since you're so keen to remove anything incriminating perhaps you should tear the whole place down for us" Sylvie snapped.

"Well, let's start with the stolen medical supplies." Athos retorted.

Emma sighed deeply casting her eyes on the medical supplies cart. Her eyes landed on empty sacks. A sack that wore the same used by the Duke of Beaufort. "Athos?" Emma showed him the sacks.

"These were not here yesterday." Sylvie told them, surprised to see the sacks.

"Someone wants you to hang." Athos stated.

"Everyone wants us to hang." Sylvie said desperately.

"Not everyone, Sylvie." Emma reassured her.

A wail was heard through the settlement. There was a raucous as people gathered nearby, women sobbed, men talked over each other. Athos, Emma and Sylvie rushed to the group. Clementine was on the ground, lifeless.

"Oh, Clementine!" Sylvie breathed out.

Athos crouched down next to her. He examined her body, turning her slightly on her side. "Short blade under the ribs." He said glancing up at Emma. "This is the works of a soldier."

Emmanuelle glanced at Sylvie who was grieving Clementine. This wasn't right. Everything about this case felt wrong. The refugees were the designated criminals, everyone was against them. It was easier to point fingers. As it was easy, years ago, to point fingers at the people living in the streets or those who lived in the Court of Miracle.

"Search the place!" Emmanuelle recognized that voice. She hated that voice. Marcheaux had become a thorn in her side. There wasn't much she could do against him. He was protected by the Governor himself.

"Come." She grabbed Sylvie's hand and pulled the young woman behind her. She gripped the sacks tightly in her hands. "They can't find these."

Athos was following them close behind. They walked further into the settlements. Only to be blocked by the Red Guards. "How did they find their way through here?"

Emmanuelle pushed Sylvie behind her, she and Athos unsheathed their swords. She blocked a sword and punched another red guard in the jaw. Slammed the first one against the wall. She ducked when another sword was swung at her. She blocked the man's arm against his chest and pushed him against the railings of the stairs. Then kneed him in the stomach. Slammed his head against the railings.

"Emma, let's go." Athos grabbed her elbow. As breathless as she was. She nodded, picked up the sacks and followed him and Sylvie out of the settlements.

* * *

"Whoever killed that woman was not from the settlement." Athos informed D'Artagnan and Aramis.

"Clementine! Her name was Clementine." Sylvie interjected. "She did not come here to be persecuted, to die alone. She came for sanctuary. To live…"

"We will discover the truth, Sylvie." Aramis promised her.

"Her death won't go unpunished." Emma squeezed her shoulder lightly.

"Without these, Feron will have no proof when he goes before the Magistrate." Athos said.

"There is Leon." D'Artagnan told them. "The Red Guard may have beaten him into a false confession."

"Well, then we must find him before they hang the refugees on it." Athos said. "Where's Porthos?"

"Following a hunch." Aramis answered.

"Following a hunch?" Athos repeated.

"It's a good one."

"No doubt. Leave word for him."

"Tell me—Hubert?" Sylvie asked as they all moved to the door.

"He died during the night." D'Artagnan answered.

Emma's eyes fell shut upon hearing the news. She rested a hand on Sylvie's shoulder. "I'm so sorry, Sylvie. Truly, I am."

"Were you close?" Aramis asked her.

"He's my father." Sylvie answered him.

"I'm sorry." D'Artagnan apologized.

* * *

It was already dark outside. Aramis, Athos, D'Artagnan, Sylvie and Emmanuelle stopped in front of a tavern, on the other side of the streets.

"Most of the Red Guard regiment drinks there." Aramis said. "That's probably where they have Leon."

"Well, there's only one way to find out." D'Artagnan said.

Emma turned around and handcuffed Sylvie. "What? I can fight." Sylvie protested glaring at the woman.

"Oh, I know. This is for your safety, Sylvie." Emma retorted.

"And ours." Athos added. "She is your responsibility." He gave the keys to Aramis. As D'Artagnan and Emma started to walk towards the inn.

* * *

The chatters died down as the three musketeers walked into the tavern. All eyes turned to them.

"We could solve all of Paris' problems tonight with one blow." D'Artagnan muttered to his fellow musketeers.

"Can't say the thought didn't cross my mind." Emma muttered back.

"We're not on the battlefield now." Athos said to D'Artagnan.

The three of them walked through the tavern under the gaze of the Red Guards. Under the gaze of Marcheaux. He was sitting on his own. Looking at them smugly. They stopped in front of his table. He did not greet them, just smirked at them. A smirk that Emma had a strong desire to punch off of his face.

"You arrested the refugees on false charges." D'Artagnan started. "A good man died."

"Won't your little wife be wondering where you've got to?" Marcheaux taunted him instead.

"You fabricated evidence. Killed an innocent woman to cover your tracks." D'Artagnan continued ignoring the jab. "Took the prisoner Leon when all else failed. No doubt someone somewhere is beating a confession out of him. Where is he?"

Leon stepped into the room in this moment. They looked at him, shocked to see him clad in the Red Guard uniform. Aramis also joined them. Alone.

"Sylvie…no." Emma said as she saw the woman appeared behind Leon, a pistol aimed at the back of his head.

"Leon!"

"I'll make sure that he won't go unpunished for the death of Clementine. For the death of your father." Emma talked to her.

"Do you expect me to believe you? You have failed in the past." Sylvie told her and reminded her bitterly.

"And killing him won't bring your father or your friends back." Emma told her. "It will only burden you. And it will never lift."

During tensed seconds, Emma looked at Sylvie who did not seem to lower her weapon. A shot rang in the room and Leon collapsed on the floor.

"An honorable death." Marcheaux said smokes coming out of his pistol.

Aramis ripped the pistol out of Sylvie's hand. "What have you done?! He betrayed us! He betrayed my father! You cannot do that!" Sylvie furiously said lunging at Marcheaux. Emma grabbed her around the waist, stopping her before she could reach him.

"We put this man inside the settlement some months ago." Marcheaux said getting up. "He's been most useful but too much time in low company must have…corrupted him." Emma tightened her hold on Sylvie, resting her cheek right cheek on Sylvie's back. The woman barely struggling in her arms. "He obviously saw an opportunity to organize the theft of Beaufort's grain." Marcheaux pointed his finger at Sylvie. "Blame the refugees."

"That's the end of it." Emma said t Sylvie pushing her outside.

"Do you take us for fools?" Aramis said as the two women were walking outside.

* * *

"How can men like Marcheaux go unpunished?" Sylvie said bitterly.

"He is protected by Feron. But it won't last." Emma answered. "He will pay for this."

"When? Tell me, when will he pay?" Sylvie asked.

"I don't know." Emma sighed. "You can stay at the garrison if you wish."

"No." Sylvie said in weepy voice. "I want to go back to the settlements. Making preparations for his burial."

"If you need anything. Anything at all…"

"I know." Sylvie nodded hugging herself. "I did not mean it."

"What?"

"You didn't fail." Sylvie reminded her "You were the only one who defended us. The only one who tried to make a difference."

"I did not really succeed."

"But you tried." Sylvie smiled at her.

She smiled back.

* * *

The children ran around them, laughing cheerfully. Sylvie seemed to be faring better this morning. The refugees had been released from their cell, all charges had been dropped.

"So, you and the Captain?" Sylvie asked her.

"Me and the Captain." Emma smiled nodded.

"You have good taste in men." Sylvie commented.

"Should I be worried?" Emma joked. Sylvie just laughed and Emma joined in. She stopped and faced Sylvie. "I could ask you to be careful. But you wouldn't listen, would you?"

"I don't do careful." Sylvie answered. She then hugged the musketeer. "Thank you, Emma."

"You're welcome." Sylvie walked away from the musketeer. Her four friends were waiting for her at the gates of the settlements. Athos threw his arm around her shoulders. "You seem to have peaked her interest, Captain."

"He has that effect on certain women." Aramis said. "And she said she was choosy."

"Well, she can't be that choosy." Porthos chuckled.

"Quite the opposite." D'Artagnan said.

"What does that make me?" Emma snorted.

"A very smart woman." Athos kissed her temple.

They laughed as they walked out of the settlements together. "I hear the people of Saint Antoine have you to thank for the return of their stolen grain?" A man on horseback stopped before them. Porthos nodded. "I'd like to shake your hand."

Porthos shook his hand. "Fine animal." He commented.

"Andalusian?" Aramis asked him.

"Recently acquired. A bargain." The man answered. "Practically stole it." He chuckled.

"Have we met?" Athos asked him.

"No, I am a…concerned citizen." He answered. "Perhaps our paths will cross again.

As he left, they followed him and watched him from afar. Emma didn't like the looks of him. There was something unsettling about him. Something that made him—a threat.

* * *

Constance and Emma were sitting together in the mess. The men had gone to a tavern, celebrate their return in Paris. Celebrate their first victory against Feron.

"Have you told him?" Constance asked her.

Emma exhaled deeply. "No. I haven't."

"He needs to know. You can't keep this a secret. Not from him." Constance rested her hand over Emma's.

"I know." Emma breathed out. "I know. I just—He just got back. I don't want to tell him. Not yet."

"Emma, don't wait too long. Because if you do, he will never forgive you." Constance told her. "You must tell him."

* * *

 _Pain was rippling through her. As if someone was ripping her apart with long, sharp nails. She screamed at the top of her lungs. People were wiping the sweat off of her brows, she batted their hands away. Begging for someone to make the pain stop. She begged for Athos. Constance held her hand tightly. Soothing her, breathing with her. Emma was crying now, sobbing loudly. She wanted this to stop. She couldn't do it anymore. It had to stop._

" _One last push, Emma." Constance said softly. "One last push and it will be over."_

 _Emma in tears, nodded. And pushed one last time. The cry was loud and clear. With it the pain was gone, relief flooded her. She sobbed with joy and relief. She sobbed in exhaustion. Constance placed the small thing in her arms._

" _It's a beautiful girl." Her friend smiled a teary smile._

 _Emmanuelle took the small girl in her arms, resting her on her chest. The pain was forgotten, she felt only joy. "Hello, love."_

 _Constance sat on her bed, she stroked the baby's thick black hair. "Have you chosen a name for her?" Constance smiled lovingly at the baby._

" _Madeline. After my mother." Emmanuelle looked down at her daughter. "Madeline De Sauvignon."_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Chapter 3**_

 _ **Thank you for reading this story. Thanks to pallysd'Artagnan, to Mickey (Guest), to Angel029, to , to wildcat717 for their reviews. Thanks to all followers and the one who favorited this story.**_

 _ **New Chapter, read, enjoy and review.**_

* * *

Porthos raised his fist and banged on the door. It was the middle of night. The five musketeers stood in front of this heavy door. Three more bangs and the door remained closed. The King himself had sent them on this mission. None of them understood why. And none of them really liked this. But they had received orders.

All of them were now wearing their newest uniforms. Now matching with Emma's. Their blue cloaks had turned grey. Fastened under their right armpit by a small chain. Just like for her own uniform, the men's uniforms were all brand new and darker in colors. Athos, as captain, wore a silver fleur-de-lys on his chest. Making it clear for those who may not know his rank that he was Captain of the Musketeers.

Porthos banged on the doors, once more. This time it opened. A scrawny man stood behind it. He stood with his chest puffed out, he had a strong jawline and a lumpy large nose. He looked angry and outraged.

"You are a heavy sleeper, monsieur." Porthos greeted him.

"How dare you wake me in the middle of the night?" The man asked them.

Athos answered; "The King wants to see you."

* * *

They rode through the night. Quiet. None of them spoke a word. Neither did the man that they were escorting. At the first light of dawn, they reached the borders of Paris. And their mission seemed to be getting nervous as he broke the silence that were reigning among them.

"Am I in trouble?"

"All we know is we must get you to the Palace without delay." Aramis answered him.

"Why such urgency?" He asked.

"Pull up your hood." Was D'Artagnan's answer.

They didn't know either. And they probably would never know. He did as he was asked as they approached a tavern. When his horse suddenly reared up and threw him on the ground. He screamed in pain as the musketeers jumped down from their horses. To check on him. The five of them glanced at each other, not trusting the man on the ground. They ignored the King's reasons to bring that man back to his court. They obeyed his orders but they did not trust this scrawny little man.

They walked into the tavern, Porthos half carrying him.

"This man has fallen. He needs help." Porthos declared upon entering the tavern. His fellow musketeers right behind him.

"Get him a chair." The man behind the counter ordered to no one in particular.

Emma walked behind Athos as they followed Porthos and their mission. The musketeer saw Sylvie standing by the bar. She frowned at the young refugee, silently questioning her presence there. So early in the morning. She looked around her seeing the shoulder pads they wore. War Veterans.

"Away from me!" He pushed the musketeers away.

"Have some wine. Have some wine." A woman brought him a cup.

He drank the wine. Once he finished, he put down the cup. And then, went through his pockets. "I've been robbed!"

He was fast. It happened in a split second. He pulled out his dagger and slit one man's throat. Stabbed another and slit another before the musketeers were able to stop him. The men in the tavern pulled out their pistols and so did the musketeers.

"You cannot kill me!" The murderer said. "I am the Duke of Orleans. The King's brother."

"We're leaving now. We won't come back." Athos said.

"Athos is Captain of the Musketeers." Sylvie said. "He will keep his word."

The man that was previously behind the bar, seemed to be the leader of this group of soldiers. And reluctantly, he ordered; "Lower your weapons, soldiers."

"Get him out of here." Athos ordered the musketeers. He gazed at the three dead bodies on the ground. Turned to the Captain of the soldiers. "I'm sorry." And walked out of the tavern.

* * *

Emma was boiling with rage against the Duke of Orleans because she knew that there would be no justice for the dead and their families. She only became more enraged seeing Governor Feron and Captain Marcheaux at the garrison. Waiting for them it seemed.

"Philippe." The Duke called upon seeing him. "Brother! Praise God!"

"Oh, it's a family reunion. Look." Porthos commented next to Emma.

"Gaston!" Governor Feron retorted. "Welcome, welcome, welcome. Barely five minutes in Paris and already three men are dead. Why are you here?"

"This man is a murderer." Aramis answered the Governor.

"This fool and his friends dragged me from my bed at an ungodly hour without ceremony or reason, say that the King has sent for me."

"The King?"

"I fall from my horse through near exhaustion," Emma rolled her eyes at his complaints. "They force me into that tavern where I'm attacked! Robbed! I feared for my very life."

"If I remember correctly, you are the one who attacked and killed three innocent bystanders." Emma reminded him, barely managing to conceal her anger.

"You did nothing to protect me and the King will hear of it." He returned.

"Let us see what he wants with you first, shall we?" Feron pushed Gaston forward. "Come."

"The King placed the Duke in our custody." Athos informed Feron.

"A decision he may live to regret, don't you think?" Feron countered. "Come."

"I left a good, clean war for this." Porthos sneered at Marcheaux.

Marcheaux remained quiet. He and Feron took Gaston with them as they left the garrison. Athos left for the palace.

"I can't believe this." Emma fumed as she climbed the stairs to her bedchambers. Leaving her fellow musketeers in the yard.

* * *

She fought five years in Paris, struggled to make the refugees and soldiers feel as if Paris could be their new home. Making them believe that the King cared about his people. But she knew better. Before the war, before everything, the King had proven that his people mattered less than the Counts and Barons that lived in his palace. Emma didn't doubt that he had a good heart. But sometimes he couldn't see the sufferings his people went through. Sometimes, he could be selfish.

Although lately, Emma had witnessed a change in him. After Rochefort, The King seemed to love his Queen still. But as the Dauphin grew older, his affection for the Queen seemed to have lessened. It was more than that. He was despising her. And yet, never had he rejected the Dauphin. But the change Emma noticed was not this one. The King was isolating himself more and more. Removing himself from his court. Only finding solace, it seemed, at his son' side. He had changed.

The Duke Of Orléans's return from his exile was proof of that. The King exiled his brother for attempting to overthrow him, three years ago. He had exiled his brother, in the same fashion he had exiled his mother. Gaston had always been spineless, cruel and entitled. Everyone knew it. It was common relief to see him removed from Paris. His return, on the other hand, was not. What was the King trying to do? What were his reasons?

* * *

They received orders. They must find the thief and bring them to the King. It was her duty. As a musketeer, she must obey the King's order. Her Captain's order. But she was reluctant. Because while the Thief would be brought to the King, Gaston would walk free. Never paying for the cruel crimes he committed over a purse.

"You've come to make an arrest?" Leopold said. Porthos, Athos and Emma stood before him. They came looking for the Thief. "The King leaves us with no military pension. His brother murders our friends. And now this!"

"You can't demand justice if you won't deliver it yourselves." Porthos retorted.

"The men, we bury tomorrow, they fought for the King with us on the worst day of the war, at Burgundy." He continued. "But later that same day we learned his Majesty had been buying thoroughbreds for his stables!"

"The King is grateful for the infantry's sacrifice at Burgundy." Athos assured him. Emma glanced up at him. In disbelief, irritated at his words.

"The Thief betrayed us and our friends, Leopold. Remember that." The Captain, Christophe sighed. "He is dead to me, Captain."

"You're giving in to them?" Leopold asked him.

"Holding them to their word." Christophe answered. "I'll find the culprit. But in return…the King will put his brother in trial."

This was a promise they couldn't make. They already knew what would happen to Gaston. Nothing.

* * *

"The King is grateful?" Porthos repeated once the three musketeers walked out of the tavern.

"What else could I say?" Athos asked him.

"Anything but lies." Emma said. "We all know there'll be no trial."

Athos remained quiet. He knew she was right. But he didn't have a choice. Those were their orders. He walked up to his horse. There was a note attached to his saddle.

"It seems our visit has stirred the thief's conscience." Athos said after he read the note.

"They want to hand themselves over to us after the funeral tomorrow." Porthos passed the note to Emma who read it to herself.

"Documents." Emma shook her head. "There was no money."

"He was lying." Porthos looked at Emma and Athos.

* * *

Gaston had lied about what was in the purse. Why would he lie? Probably because those documents would incriminate him. And now, that the King had invited him back to the palace. His reunion with his brother might be short lived. There were compromising. He wanted them back. And the Musketeers were not supposed to know about them. But now, they did. What would happen now?

All the soldiers sat in the small church. The three coffins stood by the altar. The musketeers sat with mourning soldiers. As for Emma, she stood by the door. She had seen enough funerals for a lifetime. Her father's, her mother's, friends and other soldiers. But the hardest of them all was the one she did not attend. She didn't get to bid her farewell. She didn't to get to say 'I love you' one last time. In the corner, stood in the shadow a man. She had met him before briefly. At the refugee camp. He had greeted them. What was he doing here? Did he know one of the fallen soldiers?

"With the Lord at your back…" Christophe started. "…you need not fear the destruction that wastes at noon. He will cover with his feathers and under his wings you will find refuge." Christophe's voice wobbled slightly. "You will not fear the terror of the night nor the arrow that flies by day. A thousand…" He choked up. "A thousand men…"

"A thousand men may fall at your side." Aramis continued for Christophe who was now crying. Emma wiped away her tears. "A thousand men may fall at your side. Ten thousand, at your right hand but none shall come near you. Because you have made the Lord your refuge and the most high your dwelling place." Aramis paused. Emma turned around at the doors as they were swung opened by the Red Guards. "This is a house of God."

"These men are to be arrested by order of the Duke of Orleans." Marcheaux declared.

Emma stood in front of him. "Are you ever ashamed of yourself, Marcheaux?" She asked as her fellow musketeers stood next to her.

"Ashamed?" Marcheaux snorted. "The shame belongs to whoever stole from the Duke. But since they will not come forward, we'll flog everyone to get the truth."

"It is Orleans who should be flogged." Christophe snapped. Aramis and D'Artagnan held him back as he lunged at Marcheaux.

"And his bastard brother!" Leopold said.

Marcheaux shot him. He fell. Dead. The men erupted in anger. The musketeers held them back.

"If we were armed…" Christophe threatened but Porthos stopped him.

"Don't give them a reason to fire. Don't!"

"ENOUGH!" Tréville roared walking into the church. The soldiers all stopped trying to attack the Red Guards. "Withdraw, Captain!" He ordered to Marcheaux. But the Captain of the Red Guards only glared. Seeing that he was not going to obey. Minister Tréville walked onto the Captain. "I am your minister and I order you—withdraw!"

Marcheaux snorted before ordering his men to leave with a nod. He stared down Tréville before following his men. Needless to say, that Christophe and his men were furious, outraged and enraged.

"Christophe! Christophe!" Porthos grabbed his arm to stop him from walking further away.

Christophe pushed away Porthos. "Get your hands off me! You brought that monster into my home! All this is your fault."

"These men are trying to help." Tréville defended.

Christophe lunged at him but his men stopped him. "I should never have listened to you." Christophe glared at Sylvie. "I should've killed them all when I had the chance." Sylvie glanced up at Athos before leaving. "Four of ours have been taken. We march on the palace. Take one of theirs. Orleans!" He walked away. "Return to the tavern for the weapons."

"We should go after them." Porthos suggested.

"No. Come with me."

* * *

They went to the Palace. The King needed to see reason. The Veterans, his soldiers, were marching onto the Palace.

"So far, the King refused to listen to me. But if all of you bear witness, he will understand the severity of this situation." The Musketeers followed Tréville through the Palace's hallway to the King's chambers.

The King sat on his bed. His chambers weren't in complete darkness but there wasn't much light, either. He sat in his robe, no wigs. Emma frowned at his appearance, he who was usually so well dressed, appeared neglected. It was never in his characters. She kept her thoughts to herself but she knew it wasn't in his habits to appear so. And now that she looked at him closely, he even appeared sick.

"The Duke ordered the Red Guard to attack that church." Tréville said. "Did he have your authority?"

"But he was robbed!" The King answered.

"Majesty, this is about more than money." Athos continued.

"Your own war heroes are arming themselves to march on the Palace." Porthos informed him.

"Well, then, we'll slaughter them." Was his Majesty's answer. Emma's eyes fell shut.

"There are men just like these in every borough of Paris." D'Artagnan told him.

"And once they hear how the King treats their brothers, they will rise too." Emma warned him.

"Majesty, this is a fire that must never be lit." Athos added.

"Force the Duke to show remorse. Make a public apology." Tréville tried to make him see reason.

"Enough! You do not tell me what to do, Tréville." The King glared at the small group. "Now get these Musketeers out of my quarters, immediately!"

The men bowed and Emma curtsied and together they walked out of his chambers.

"This is madness." Emma said quietly as they walked further away from the King's chambers.

"It will turn into a bloodbath, if we don't stop this soon." Porthos agreed.

"Let's hope Tréville can convince the King." Athos said.

"Where is Aramis?" D'Artagnan asked.

* * *

Aramis was in the courtyard. Speaking with the Queen. Emma's eyes landed on the Dauphin playing with the Duke. He was five years old. Already so big and a beautiful boy. She wore a small smile as she watched him play but had sorrowful eyes. And a pained expression.

"Emma?" Athos touched the small of her back. "Are you alright?"

"Yes." Emma put on a smile. "Yes, I'm alright."

Her words did not reassure the Captain as he frowned at her back in concern.

They met Tréville in the hallway as he walked out of the King's chambers.

"The King wants me to speak to these men on his behalf." Tréville said. He wouldn't meet their eyes. Keeping his on the ground.

"That's not a good idea." Aramis said.

"They blame us, Tréville." D'Artagnan reminded him.

"I have to contain this before it spreads!" He snapped. "I will speak to them as a soldier, not a Minister."

"What's happened?" Athos asked him but he ignored the Captain's question as he kept on.

"They saw us help them against the Red Guards. They'll listen to me."

"You're going alone?" Athos stated more than asked.

"If I go with you it will provoke them." Tréville retorted.

"Go without us, they might kill you." Aramis said.

"If they reach the Palace, we'll kill all of them." Tréville said back. "I cannot risk any more blood on royal hands."

"I'm coming with you." Porthos said with finality.

Tréville didn't say a word as he walked away. The Musketeers followed him.

* * *

All they had to do now was wait. Wait for news of Tréville and Porthos. Hoping that the negotiations were going well. Emma was anxious. She hoped that Minister Tréville and Porthos would succeed. She didn't want to spill the blood of soldiers who fought for the King. Those who received nothing in return. Those who survived the war only to die in the streets in Paris. As nothing more than beggars.

There was no chance of a peaceful resolution, it seemed. Minister Tréville and Porthos were now held hostage by Christophe and his men at his tavern.

Armed men welcomed them.

"Where's the Minister and my Musketeer?" The Captain asked Christophe.

A soldier handed him a note. "You won't see them until you've taken our demands to the King." Christophe said.

Athos read the note before saying. "This is never going to happen."

"It will happen in one hour, or your friends die."

"Stand down." D'Artagnan said.

"We can still end this peacefully." Aramis reasoned.

"This will end!" Christophe snapped. "But whether or not it is peaceful…that's up to you." He stared them down. "One hour."

"Stay here." Athos ordered them as he left for the Palace.

* * *

The soldiers had built a barricade at the doors of their tavern. As for the musketeers, they stood behind their own barricades. The cadets, their pistol in their hands, expecting orders.

"Stay calm. Make sure they can see us at all times." D'Artagnan paced behind the cadets. "No sudden movements." He stopped by Brujon. "What are you doing? Lower your pistol." He pulled the cadet's arm down. "No one is to draw a weapon without my order."

Emma looked over at them briefly before setting her eyes back on the tavern. Maybe there was a way for her to get to Porthos and Tréville and avoid an eventual bloodbath. But it was too risky.

* * *

Athos was back. And with him he brought bad news. The King had granted permission to the Red Guard to slaughter the soldiers, to raze the tavern to the grounds. However, Athos was allowed to attempt a rescue.

"I need to know our men are alive, Christophe." Athos demanded.

Christophe came forward. Stared at them and nodded at one of his men. The man walked back into the tavern. He came back with Porthos, his hands tied behind his back.

"Make it quick, Captain." Christophe said.

"Tréville?" Porthos nodded. "As soon as I give the word, the King will organize an emergency council meeting. Be over soon, my friend. Until then, be strong, as you were at Alsace." His eyes didn't leave Christophe as he said over his shoulders, to D'Artagnan. "Tell the King they're alive."

"What exactly happened at Alsace?" Emma asked Athos as they stood by.

"Porthos had been captured by a Spanish regiment." Athos started. "We had to get him out. We came in though the tunnels right underneath."

"Smart and dangerous." Emma commented.

Athos smirked before he looked over at Brujon. And nodded slightly. Brujo nodded back. Without hesitation, he took the first shot. The cadets and the musketeers fired at Christophe and his men. Without aiming at them. It was distraction than a real attack. To give enough to Aramis and D'Artagnan to free Minister Tréville and Porthos.

It seemed to be working well. That was until they heard a loud explosion coming from the Tavern. Emma felt her heart dropped. Her friends were in more danger than she thought. And why was there an explosion? What went wrong?

A shot rang. A shot fired by neither side. A shot fired by the Red Guards.

"NO!" Athos yelled and he fired back. "Defend yourselves!"

The cadets and the musketeers took cover. Firing at the Red Guards. Emma pulled Deauville down. And fired. A cadet fell. Athos pulled him behind the cart. There were so few of them and so many of the Red Guards.

"FALL BACK!" D'Aratgnan shouted over the pistols being fired.

Christophe, his men and the musketeers covered them as they ran to take cover behind the Tavern's barricades. Emma pushed the cadet in front of her. They made it to the barricades under the fires of the Red Guards.

"Marcheaux!" Tréville shouted.

"He won't listen." Athos shouted at him.

"This attack has no legitimacy!"

"He has direct orders from the King. He could kill us all, no questions asked."

"We fight him." Tréville looked at Christophe. "Together."

"Together." Christophe nodded.

"How much gunpowder do you have?" Aramis asked him.

"Two barrels inside."

"I'll go." D'Artagnan volunteered.

Now with more powder they fired at the red guards. The Red Guards fired back.

"They're reloading! Now!" It was Aramis.

"Fire!"

All of them fired at once. Keeping the Red Guards at bay. But they soon realized that two barrels of powder weren't enough.

"Powder!"

"I'm out!"

The Red Guards fired at them but they couldn't replicate.

"We're outgunned!" Athos stated.

"Is there another way out?" Emma asked Christophe.

"We're trapped." He shook his head.

"Whatever happens, I've got your back." Aramis said to Porthos.

"I know." Porthos nodded.

The five musketeers glanced at each other. They knew how this would end. They had no more powder. All that was left were their swords. Emma never thought it would end this way. She survived the fever that had struck Paris four years ago. She had survived at Alsace. She had survived the Spanish. Only to die at the hands of the Red Guards. She would die fighting.

They all stood up as the firing seized on the other side. And pulled out their swords. All of them ready to die with a sword in their hands. When they heard it. Voices rose in the distance. It was Constance and the few cadets that had been left at the garrison.

They left the safety of the barricades. And their swords clashed with those of the Red Guards. Emma ducked as a sword was swung at her. Ran her sword through his flesh. He grabbed onto his stomach before falling to the ground. She blocked a sword, kneed one in his gut. Blocked another one, and sliced another.

More friends came. Refugees led by Sylvie. The Red Guards were now outnumbered. Soon, they all had been rounded up in a small group with swords at their throats. Emma stood next to Athos. Smiling at him.

"As you can see, Captain, I am safe now." Minister Tréville said to Marcheaux.

"Oh, Minister, I am relieved." Marcheaux started. Sarcastic.

Tréville punched him. "Crawl back to the Governor." And pushed him with a kick to his backside.

Humiliated and defeated, Marcheaux left. All was well.

"Joséphine!" Christophe cried. She had been hurt. Christophe ran to her and caught her in his arms. Before falling to his knees. "You're cold."

"I always thought I would be the one left alone in the world." She said with teary voice. "I'm so sorry, Christophe."

"You have no reason to be sorry, my love." Christophe retorted softly. "You stood by me…all these years…through all those wars."

Emma's eyes welled up with tears. "I let you down. I…" She couldn't finish her sentence.

"You fought bravely, Joséphine." D'Artagnan told her. "You kept your honor. You both did."

Joséphine looked at her husband one last time before breathing her last breath. Emma glanced up at Athos. What if it had been her? Or him?

* * *

Emma sat on her bed. Her doublet, her cloak and corset were left on a chair by the door. In her hands, was a small handkerchief. It was embroidered with the letter "M", in blue, on the left corner.

Athos sat down next to her. He brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. She looked up at him.

"Emma, are you alright?" He asked quietly.

"There is something I have to tell you. But first, promise me that you will remember that I love you." She paused. "My dearest friend…I'm asking you to love me, the hardest that you've ever had to. In the end, it will be alright. Because its you and me. Because it's us." She took a deep shaky breath. "I just need you to hold my hand while I'm saying what I must tell you. Will you?"

Athos's eyes roamed her face. In search of clues, probably. He took a deep breath. And took her hand in his. "I'm listening."

Emma breathed out in relief. Rested her other hand, and the small cloth she was holding, on top of his. "Five years ago, when you left for war—a short time after. I found that I was with child. Our child."


	4. Chapter 4

_**Chapter 4**_

 _ **Thanks for reading this story. Thanks to pallysd'Artagnan for their review. Thanks to all the followers and the one who favorited this story.**_

 _ **New Chapter, read, enjoy and review.**_

* * *

 _It's been two months since Athos and her friends left for the front. A war had been declared. A war to Spain. She had been left behind. She was a musketeer like the rest of them but she was also woman. And the battlefield was no place for her. She remained in Paris._

 _The streets were calm still. New of the war had spread but the people lived their lives in peace still. Constance was living at the garrison with her. Like her, Constance, newly wed to D'Artagnan, had said goodbye to the man she loved. Together, they were in charge of the garrison. It was a task that Minister Tréville assigned to them. Everything was well. Or it seemed like it._

 _However, something was different. It scared her. It was new, something she hadn't expected. And she would have to face it alone. Without Athos. Emma was with child. She sat at her table, a letter she had just written, sitting in front of her. She should send it. Let Athos know that he was to be a father. He would be happy. He would be here if he could. But he couldn't. He was Captain of the Musketeer. They needed him on the battlefield._

 _He had to know. But she couldn't risk him being distracted by the news. It could be fatal to his troops, to him. She ripped the letter and threw it away. She would wait._

* * *

Athos and she was laying in the bed. Both staring at the ceiling.

"Had you so little faith in me?" Athos asked her.

"I was scared. I just wanted you to stay alive." Emma answered.

Athos turned his head to look at her. "What happened?"

* * *

 _Her new corset fitted her perfectly. It wasn't too tight on her rounded belly. Constance hadn't lost anything of her years as a seamstress. Emma could loosen it up whenever she wanted. It was black as her usual corset. She wore it over her new dress. She was a musketeer still but she could no longer fight as one. Emma didn't mind not being able to fight for once. She was happy. She started to believe that she could do it. That she could be a mother._

 _However, she would have loved for Athos to be there with her. She wanted to share these moments with him. Such as the first time their child had kicked. Or they would speak of how big she had grown and he would tell her how beautiful she was still. Or they would discuss of names to give to their child. Whether it was a boy or a girl. They would probably have those moments in the future but it wouldn't be the same. All that she could think about now, was how happy Athos would be when he'd see his child for the first time._

 _And then Madeline was born._

 _A beautiful pink little girl with thick black hair. And her eyes as blue as her mother's. But there was so much more of Athos in her features than her mother's. She had deprived him of those moments. She had made the choice to not let him know. In fear of distracting him of his duties. In fear of losing him to the war. As she looked at her daughter's face, she hoped that he would not hate her for this. That he would understand her reasons. He would be angry and she would understand. But she did not want him to hate her._

* * *

 _It's been almost a year since she last saw him. It's almost been a year since War had been declared to Spain. The first refugees reached the border of Paris. The first victims of the war, the first of many to come. The Parisians were welcoming. Offered them shelters and food. After all they were all French citizens._

 _The numbers of Musketeers stationed at the garrison had dwindled. More and more of them were called on the front. Soon there would be none of them left in the garrison. Except for Constance and Emmanuelle. On the other hand, young men, all over Paris, enrolled to become musketeers. They wanted to take part in the War, fight for their country and King. And it befell Emma to train them as Athos had trained her._

* * *

 _Madeline was eight months old when it happened. She had just started to crawl. Constance and her mother were dotting on her. As the rest of the garrison. Madeline was a lively child, a glint of mischief in her eyes. Smiling and friendly. So young and already her own person. Until fate struck._

 _With the number of refugees increasing each day, the Parisians started to grow weary of them. The refugees weren't dangerous, at least not all of them. But crimes were being committed and the Red Guards were quick to accuse the refugees. Emma did the best she could to help the refugees, clearing the innocents of all charges but failing to save others. The refugees were grateful for her trying and regretted that the King did not do much more to help them._

 _With their increasing number came the fever. A plague that had struck all of Paris. Not all of people were touched but many died. Most of the victims were in the refugees' camp. Constance and Emmanuelle were doing the best to bring all the help they needed. There was a high risk for them to fall sick. But they were the only one willing to do something for those people. They were able to enroll some good souls willing to help. The Queen had given them funds to buy supplies for the sick._

 _Emmanuelle had unfortunately fallen victim to the fever. And so, had Madeline. Mother and daughter were bedridden under Constance's care. Her daughter's cries were unbearable. Emma couldn't protect her, couldn't ease her pain. She was powerless. She couldn't even feed her child. Her body was burning hot. She was sweating and yet, cold at times. And she couldn't begin to imagine how her daughter felt. All she had to go on was her cries and her moments of silence._

 _The fever kept going up and Emma was mostly unconscious. She was barely aware of what was happening around. She would close her eyes for a few seconds and sleep for hours. And when she opened her eyes, Constance was trying to feed her. At times, she would even see Athos. But he couldn't be here. He was on the front with their friends. He couldn't be here but she wished he was._

 _For days, she kept the bed. For days, she hadn't been able to hold her daughter and comfort her. For days, she hadn't heard her daughter's cries. And when she awoke, she understood why._

* * *

"The fever took her." Emma said, tears gathering up in her eyes. "The fever took her and I didn't have the chance to say goodbye."

"I will never have the chance to meet her." Athos said quietly.

Emma sat at his side and stared at him. "I am so sorry, Athos." She whimpered. "I should have told you; I know. I shouldn't have hidden her from you. I should…" She didn't finish her sentence, her sobs taking over.

Athos pulled her into his arms. She held onto him and sobbed into his shoulder. Athos exhaled deeply before laying a gentle kiss on the crown of her head. She had lied to him. Hidden his child from him. He was angry. Even as he held her, her body shook with sobs, he was angry. He never met his daughter and now he was mourning her.

He was angry. But not against her. He had understood when she explained her reasons. He was on the battlefield fighting a war. There were days where he thought it was the end, that he would never lay eyes on the woman he loved ever again. He had endured so much but so had she. Maybe more than he had. She was fighting a battle of her own. He had believed her safe in Paris and yet…

He was angry. At the war, the circumstances. She had been punished for it. They had been punished for it. How many more had to live with the consequences of the war? How many more could not lay eyes on their children or spouses ever again? So many. Too many. But it would not help to dwell on it. All he could do now, was to be there for her. And in time, his anger would fade. And together, they would remember their daughter. They would remember Madeline.

Together, they went to her grave. A place where no child should be. A place reserved for fallen soldiers, people who had lived a long life. A graveyard was no place for a child. And this is where Madeline was to rest for eternity. She who had lived such a short life. She who had never met her father.

* * *

Athos and Emmanuelle walked back to the garrison in silence. There was nothing left to say. There were no words to describe the pain of losing a child. No words to soothe that open wound. It had been three years and Emma still felt it. When Madeline had died, she could barely breathe or get out of bed. She missed Athos with every cell of her being. And as time went by, breathing became easier. Getting out of bed was no longer a problem. She missed Athos still but his absence was more bearable.

It was during that time that Emma started her mission with Milady. Staying at the Garrison and Paris was no longer bearable. Sitting and waiting for their return was something she was no longer capable of doing. She must do her part. She needed to.

So, the missions started.

Interception, spying, collecting vital information. It brought her back to a time where she was only a thief. A thief that would disguise herself to fool people around her. To lure them easily. Spying was no different. She was stealing information. War information that would give her country advantage in this battle. She disguised herself, lured them in. Sometimes, she was a servant, a courtier or a baroness. On other occasions, she would only be summoned when Milady needed assistance.

Every mission would take her away from the garrison for a time. The distraction was welcomed.

* * *

Upon arriving at the Garrison, Emma was welcomed with the sight of Kitty. She was dressed in a simple but beautiful dress. The young girl was expecting the musketeer at the entrance of the garrison.

"Lady Emma." She smiled shyly at the musketeer.

"Kitty, I see that you are faring well." Emma smiled at her.

"The Countess is taking very good care of me." Kitty nodded. She glanced briefly at Athos.

"Oh, this is Athos, Captain of the Musketeer." Emma introduced him. "Athos, this is Kitty."

"Mademoiselle." Athos nodded at her.

"Monsieur." Kitty curtsied in return.

"Come." Emma steered the girl towards the garrison. "I'll introduce the rest of them."

D'Artagnan, Aramis and Porthos were sitting at the table. Speaking cheerfully among themselves.

"Gentlemen, let me introduce a good friend of mine to you. Kitty." The young girl's cheeks reddened. "Kitty meet the musketeers D'Artagnan, Aramis and Porthos."

"It's my pleasure, messieurs." Kitty said politely as the musketeers nodded at her and smiled.

"Tell me, Kitty, what brings you to the garrison?" Emma asked her.

"The Countess whishes to speak to you." Kitty answered. "She said to bring you four friends if you must."

"Did she say about what?" Emma frowned.

"No but she said to come at once." Kitty said. "She seems very nervous. Frightened even."

"Alright, you ride with me." Emma said to Kitty. "Are you coming?" She turned to her friends.

"Who is this Countess?" D'Artagnan asked her.

"Countess of Carlisle, she works for the Crown." Emma said briefly. "But you'll know more once we're there."

"Is she your friend?" Aramis asked Emma.

"I wouldn't call her that but…yes." Emma shuddered slightly.

* * *

The Countess of Carlisle lived on the outskirt of Paris. Her house was more a mansion. A two stories mansion, large with multiple chambers and servants to take care of her lands. For once, the Countess had earned this land. Not through a wedding or through stealing or lies and manipulation. But thanks to her own money. Working for the crown paid more than she thought it would.

That was what it was in the beginning. Just another way to earn a living. But with time, it became more than just earning a living. It became a duty.

Milady was not easily scared. Emma had learned that over the years. She always had a way out. If something was threatening her safety, she would be scared but she would have a backup plan. For Milady to be scared and call for her, it could only be something that Milady did not know how to deal with it. Whatever the threat may be.

* * *

"You took your time." The Countess said without looking up from the letter in her hands.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're happy to see me, Milady." Emmanuelle said back sitting across her.

"Milady De Winter." Porthos grunted unhappily.

"So, this is the Countess." Aramis looked down at Emma.

"You didn't tell them?" Milady looked questioningly at Emma.

"I thought it would be easier if they saw for themselves." Emma nodded.

"Countess? Who's the fool that married you?" D'Artagnan asked.

"No one." Milady answered. "Milady De Winter was an assassin and the Cardinal's agent. Countess of Carlisle is the King's agent and a spy."

"Changing your name won't change your nature." Athos said.

"I asked you to come for help." Milady stood up. "Not to be insulted." She looked down at Emma. "You should have come alone."

"You said: 'Bring them if you must.'" Emma reminded her. "I must." She only shrugged.

"This was all a mistake." Milady grumbled. "Kitty." She called.

"Yes, my lady." Kitty entered the room.

"Bring us some wine, please." Emma cut in.

"Of course, Lady Emma."

"So, why have you called?" Emma asked her as the Countess glared at her.

Milady sat back down. Kitty came in with a pitcher and goblets on a tray. She put it down on Milady's desk.

"Thank you, Kitty. You may leave us."

Kitty curtsied as she was being dismissed by her mistress. Athos took upon himself to serve wine to his friends, the Countess and himself. The Countess handed a note to Emma.

"This was delivered to me." Milady said as way of explanation.

It was a simple note, written in French. It was clearly a threat. It read: _We are watching._

"Montoya." Emma simply stated. Milady nodded.

"Captain Montoya?" Porthos repeated questioningly.

"Heard of him?" Emma asked him.

"Met him on the battlefield." D'Artagnan retorted. "A Ruthless soldier."

"How do you know him?" Athos asked Emma.

"I retrieved the Countess from his clutches, weeks ago." Emma explained.

"Retribution for stealing his plaything away from him." Milady continued. "And he wants her back."

"Does she know?" Emma asked her.

"No." Milady shook her head. "I do not know how he found us. Or how he was able to walk into Paris without anyone noticing him. But if he gets his hands on her, he will kill her. The girl knows too much."

"I don't think he would risk walking into Paris." Emmanuelle replied. "He might have paid someone to do his bidding."

"Who are you talking about?" Aramis asked them.

"Kitty." Milady looked up at him.

The musketeers glanced at each other. "I'll sent Planchet to you." Emma suggested.

"Lady Catherine needs him." Milady retorted.

"I'm sure she can let him under your service for as long as you need."

"And then what?"

"Then, I'll keep an eye out. Find out what I can." Emma stood up. "I can't do much. Not knowing where the note came from. Or who delivered it to you, it would be difficult to prove that's even Montoya."

"And by the time you proved it's Montoya, we'll both be dead." Milady told her.

"Have a little faith in me, Anne." Emma retorted with a smirk. "I'll talk to the Minister and let him know of the threat." Athos cleared his throat. Emma looked up at him. He was wearing a small smirk. "Yes, you are the Captain. What should we do?"

"I'll talk to the Minister." Athos took the note. "Let Kitty know that there is a possibility that her former master might know where she is." Athos continued. "Make sure that you are both careful. As Emma said, there's not much we can do for now. Apart from waiting."

With that they left. There was a new threat to deal with. They didn't know who it might be but Emma agreed with Milady, it could only be Montoya. Maybe he wasn't in Paris himself but he knew where to find her.

Was it safe for her and Kitty? No. Could they do anything about it? Probably not. At least for now. Adding to Feron, Gaston and the Red Guards they also would have to deal with Montoya. Why could not things be simple? Why did it always have to be complicated?

Athos was the Captain, she had to remind herself. She was so used to be in charge that she hadn't even thought of consulting him. When Milady was involved, it was only the two of them. Milady relied on her as much as Emma did. That was when Athos, Aramis, D'Artagnan and Porthos were gone. But now they were here. She could rely on them as she did before the war. She needed to step back. She was no longer in charge. Athos was.

Athos was the Captain.

She ignored what this threat may be. Whether it was Montoya or someone else, she would have to be careful as much as Milady. More than ever now that she had to face so many. Paris had turned into a battlefield.

War was coming.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Chapter 5**_

 _ **Thanks for reading this story. Thanks to pallysd'Artagnan for their reviews. Thanks to all the followers and the one who favorited this story.**_

 _ **New Chapter, read, enjoy and review.**_

* * *

The rain was pouring outside. Emma stepped in her chambers. Athos was looking through the window, sipping his goblet. She put down her hat and took off her gloves. She came up behind him, her arms went around his waist, her hands flat on his stomach.

"Have I lost you?" Emma asked quietly.

He turned around, tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. His thumb stroking her cheek. "No." He breathed out. He laid a kiss on her lips. "I need time."

She nodded. "Take all the time you need."

She hugged him tightly, rested her forehead against his shoulder. He pulled away and put down his goblet. Athos, then pulled her into a deep and tender kiss. He had seemed to have forgiven her when she had told him about Madeline. But things were not that easy. Athos, although he treated her with tenderness and love still, put distance between them sometimes. In those moments, Emma did not push it. In those moments, Emma felt as if she was losing him. And maybe, she had. But always, he would come back to her.

His lips were on her throat when a knock on the door interrupted them. Athos reluctantly went to the door. On the other side, there was D'Artagnan.

"We need to, er…We need to get to the Louvre." D'Artagnan said as he looked between Athos and Emma that was half lying on the bed. Porthos and Aramis coming up behind him.

Emma chuckled as she let herself fall back on the bed.

* * *

They bowed before the King. "Right, mount your horses." The King said quickly. "You have a thief to catch!"

"There are only five Musketeers?" His sister, The Queen of England, exclaimed next to him. "And this one is a woman. He is fast, powerful and dangerous. This is no ordinary man."

"They are my best musketeers. If anyone can find your thief, it would be them." The King assured his sister.

* * *

"Why would the Queen of England travel without an escort?" Aramis asked as they were all getting ready.

"And how are we supposed to catch this thief?" D'Artagnan asked. "They didn't even give us a clear description."

"We'll start the search in Saint-Antoine," Athos said. "The most likely place to sell stolen jewels."

"Only an idiot would stay in Paris after robbing the King's sister." Porthos remarked.

"You'd be surprised to know that there's plenty of those in the streets of Paris." Emma told him.

"Two words-needle, haystack." D'Artagnan said as he mounted his horse.

"I've got two more-move, now." Athos countered.

"I've got two better ones-coitus, interruptus." Aramis joked.

D'Artagnan laughed. "Aramis, shut up." Emma chuckled.

* * *

Off they were, riding to St Antoine to start the search for the mysterious thief. They were right. No description of who it could be. No idea of where they could be. It was near impossible to find this thief. And yet…Luck would have it, their thief stood among the crowd.

"Porthos?" D'Artagnan said as he stopped.

"I know that face." Porthos replied.

They all looked around as Athos said. "Now's not the time."

"No, no, no, no, I know it too." Aramis said as his eyes fell upon the said face.

"Oh, that is not a good face." D'Artagnan shook his head.

"That's Bonnaire." Porthos said.

"What are the chances that he is our thief?" Emma wondered.

"Bonnaire!" Porthos shouted. "Come here!"

And the chase started. Bonnaire ran away from them. Hiding among the crowd. He was fast and smart and the Musketeers were on horse. Two of them continued the chase on foot. While the other three blocked his way out of these streets. Also telling those on foot the current position of Bonnaire.

The chase game went on for a few minutes. Until they were able to corner him. He had found refuge in a cart full of dead bodies. Bonnaire sprung up, all the musketeers gathered around him.

"Musketeers, how lovely to see you all again." Bonnaire said. "Emile Bonnaire, my friends, arisen from the dead."

"Not for long." Emma glared at him.

"Porthos." Athos simply said.

* * *

Over the bridge, he was hung upside down, Porthos holding him by the legs. He screamed as he lost his wig. Nothing between him and the ground.

"Diamonds? Me?!" Bonnaire chuckled. "Why and how would I have come into diamonds?"

"You ran for a reason." Athos said.

"As any sane fellow would. Last time our paths crossed, you threw me on a Spanish prison ship, despite my having the Cardinal's blessings."

"I will throw you off of this building." Porthos threatened him. "Where are the diamons?"

"I am sure that there is a better way to resolve this and I say, 'let bygones, be bygones.'" Bonnaire retorted.

"Drop him." Athos ordered Porthos.

The latter let go of one of his legs. Bonnaire screamed. "Oh, the diamonds! You mean the diamonds!" Bonnaire seemed to suddenly recall. "Yes, yes, yes. Now, I recall. Now, I recall."

"Now, he remembers." Emma sighed.

They pulled him back onto the bridge. As they went through the building, on their way back to their horses, Bonnaire just kept talking their ears away.

"It must be all of six years since we last encountered one another. I think we can safely say that we've all worn quite well."

"The diamonds?" Athos reminded him.

"Yes, er, about that, look, can I have your word from one gentleman to another…?"

Porthos laughed. "You? You're not a gentleman."

"No." Bonnaire agreed. "But I am gentle." Emma snorted. "So, from this one gentle man to you, four gentlemen…" He turned to Emma. "And gentlewoman, can we guarantee that, po receipt of the desired information, you're not going to toss me into the street and…?"

"What have you done with the diamonds, Bonnaire?" Emma cut him off.

"I am a businessman, see, and uh—" He hesitated. "The diamonds are longer in my possession. I sold them."

* * *

Porthos tossed him into the streets. "You sold them? Of course, you did."

Athos pulled him up. Emma stood next to Porthos. The two musketeers had not forgotten what Bonnaire had wanted to do it, the last time they saw him. They had not forgotten and had not forgiven him. The less time, they spent time with him, the better they would be.

"The money for the jewels. We'll take that." Athos told Bonnaire.

"I would love to give you the money, I would, but sadly it is not on my person." Bonnaire replied. "My partner…my partner has it, alas."

"No, a dog like you has no friends." Porthos commented.

"Yeah, but I didn't say friends, did I? Did I? I said partner." Bonnaire countered. "Yeah, you should, er…"

Porthos pulled out his dagger, Emma didn't move to stop him whereas Athos put his hand on Porthos' chest to stop him.

"Porthos!" D'Artagnan exclaimed. "Porthos. We shouldn't upset this man. I'm disappointed in you. Look at him, he is the equal of all four of us combined. There just really is no telling what he could do."

"Take us to the buyers, quickly. The Queen of England demands it." Athos said.

"I beg your pardon? Who?" Bonnaire said surprised.

"You robbed Louis' sister." Aramis informed him.

"No?!" He exclaimed. Emma rolled her eyes at the blatant lie. "You mean…they were royal gems?"

"Come on, take us to the diamonds." Athos pushed him ahead of them.

* * *

As far as Emma was concerned, Bonnaire should have stayed in Spain, never to return again. She would have loved it this way. They had enough to deal with already, they didn't need Bonnaire on top of everything. Bonnaire who had stolen the Queen's jewels. Bonnaire who just couldn't stop talking.

"Much further to this buyer?" Athos asked him.

"Not far now." Bonnaire answered. "Anyway, as I was saying, do you know how long I was in prison for?"

"Not long enough." Porthos said.

"Five years." Bonnaire replied. "I was tortured. They would tie my body to the rack, pull my poor limbs beyond the pale."

"And yet, Bonnaire, you're still the same height." D'Artagnan remarked.

"It just pulls your bones out of your sockets, actually." Bonnaire told him. "But before I made my meticulously planned and daring escape, I suffered every day because you would not heed my pardon." Emma shook her head. "But I would like it to be known, and give me a moment because I am a touch emotional—I forgive you. Yes, I do, each and every one of you, I forgive you rom the bottom of my heart."

Emma was about to pull out her pistol, D'Artagnan stopped her. "After we get the jewels."

Emma let go of her pistol as Bonnaire continued. "Despite the many hardships I have had to endure…I find I bear you no ill will."

* * *

Lady Françoise was Bonnaire's buyer. The diamonds she bought from Bonnaire was a gift to her dear Serena. Serena that happened to be a horse. Diamonds were woven in her tail. And they had to retrieve them. Emma and D'Artagnan stood on the side and watched their fellow musketeers struggle with the horse. D'Artagnan stepped in only Athos lost all patience and was ready to shoot the horse. After all he used to be a farmer before being a musketeer.

The chase for the diamonds was still on. Although, they had retrieved some of them, they were still missing most of them. They had to visit two more buyers. For a highwayman, Bonnaire had been working really fast and really efficiently.

The chase had to continue without Aramis. The latter had, it seemed, personal matters to attend to.

* * *

Well into the night, the musketeers and Bonnaire had reached a small neighborhood of Paris, that wasn't known to be a well off and quiet neighborhood. Emma had set foot in this place once. A long time ago, when she was just starting her career as a thief. She regretted it. The way they were doing things, killing instead of stealing, was not what she was looking for at the time. She was looking for quick money, not blood on her hands. Things had changed greatly since that time. No quick money but blood on her hands.

"Where are we going?" D'Artagnan asked Bonnaire.

"To see Monsieur Dube." Bonnaire answered. "He is a tricky man with a short fuse. Surely, it would be prudent if I were to go in unaccompanied. Then I can speak to him first myself alone, make him see sense, pave the way, you understand?"

"Yes, well, we'll decide that, Bonnaire." D'Artagnan retorted.

Emma had never heard of Dube. Surely, a man with short fuse should be heard of. Of course, with the war against Spain and the Red Guards making their own laws, Dube went unnoticed.

* * *

"I have an idea. Let us employ a code." Bonnaire suggested. All five of them stood in front of a house that Bonnaire had claimed to be Dube's. "If things are going well, then I shall say nothing. But if things go badly, then I shall signal to you with words…'Well, I never did!'"

"What does that mean?" Athos asked him.

"I have no idea. The English say it all the time, they don't know what it means either." Bonnaire answered.

"Just get in there." Porthos ordered him.

"Trust me, my friends." Bonnaire said as he was leaving.

"We're not your friends." D'Artagnan countered.

"Comrades, surely?" No one answered to him and Bonnaire took this as his cue to leave.

"I hate him." Porthos said to his friends.

"You do know he'll try to run?" D'Artagnan replied.

"Good. This way we can kill him and be done with this." Emma said.

They waited outside. For several minutes, they stood in the empty streets, patiently waiting for Bonnaire.

"Musketeers!" A man called from his window. Next to him was Bonnaire. "Wait there…and I will give you what is rightfully yours."

Bonnaire cried out in pain before being thrown out of the window. Immediately, unseen men fired at them. The musketeers fired back as they rushed towards the house. Emma unsheathed her sword and with D'Artagnan, entered through the back door. She fought off the first man in their way. Behind her D'Artagnan went up the stairs and fought another one.

At the top of the stairs, D'Artagnan and Emma glanced at each other, nodded and entered the room in which Dube was. Sitting at his desk, Dube was admiring the jewels.

"I paid good money for these." Dube said.

"Well, why don't you hand those over and not another word will be said?" D'Artagnan retorted.

"Not from your lips, no." Dube snapped his fingers and his men surrounded Emma and D'Artagnan.

"This doesn't have to happen this way." Emma told Dube.

"Kill them." He ordered his men.

Immediately, they attacked D'Artagnan and Emma. The two musketeers fought them off, a pistol was fired, swords clashed, men were knocked down. In the end, the musketeers had the upper hand.

Dube placed his pistol at D'Artagnan's head. "The great D'Artagnan and the great Emma." He said. Emma turned around to face him. She glanced at D'Artagnan and let go of her sword. "Killing you will greatly enhance my reputation."

"There's two of us and only one of you." Emma reminded him.

"And you'll be dead before touching the ground." Dube countered.

A pistol was fired, Dube fell. Emma glanced at D'Artagnan before they both moved to the window. Bonnaire had just saved their lives.

* * *

They brought Bonnaire back to the garrison. A deep and large wound was present on his back. They laid him down on a table, Emma took off her doublet, and pushed up her sleeves.

"Fetch Aramis." Bonnaire groaned. "I have seen him stitch men before."

"Don't worry. I've stitched men before." Emma retorted.

"You?!"

"Never heard any one complain." Emma said. "Fetch me a needle."

"For the love of God, I beseech you, I beg you. No, not you." Bonnaire pleaded her. "Please, please. Actually, I feel a lot better. I am content to bleed."

"As you were when you were being tortured, I imagine." D'Artagnan said.

"You will find this funny, my friends, but I…" Athos handed a needle to Emma. "Look, the fact is, as soon as you put me on that ship, I jumped overboard. I have never been in Spain. I have never been tortured. I have been in England for five years trying not to get infested with lice." He cried. "Please, please. Go gentle with me, Em…" Porthos poured wine on his wound. Bonnaire cried out. "Oh, mother of God!"

"Alright, Bonnaire, this is going to hurt." Emma smiled. "Hold him down."

Bonnaire fainted.

Emmanuelle had seen and helped her father stitch men when she was younger. And during the last three years, she had done it several times during her missions with Milady. She ever was one to be a seamstress. That's why she chose to a be a thief, it was a job in which no needle work was necessary. And here she was, working with a needle.

* * *

There was one last diamond left to be found. A large and blue one, worth a King's ransom. She couldn't believe what she was doing. Years. She had spent years helping the refugees, by giving food or helping find shelter in order to survive in Paris. And there she was chasing diamond for the Queen of England. There were more important things than this. But she was a Musketeer and sometimes she had to serve the King more than the people of France.

* * *

They set off to a great mansion. Property of a certain St-Pierre, Bonnaire's last buyer. A wedding gift for his new bride.

"More musketeers?" St-Pierre said upon seeing them.

"On royal business." Athos replied.

"Yes, we need you to give up a certain blue diamond." D'Artagnan told him.

Aramis joined them at this instant. See, the Bride-to-Be was Aramis' friend, the one that came and fetched him at the garrison. The personal matters that he had to take care of.

"I will do nothing of the kind." St-Pierre said.

"It won't be of any great loss to you financially." Athos retorted.

"Money is not the issue here." St-Pierre replied.

"Aramis?" The young woman called her friend.

"Do not despair, Pauline. They will not take it from you." St-Pierre assured his bride.

"Rest assured, we will." Athos said.

"Can you do something?" Pauline asked Aramis.

"What is one more diamond?" Aramis turned to his fellow musketeer.

"Gentlemen, take your leave." St-Pierre warned them.

"When we have what we came for." Athos insisted.

"I said, take your leave."

"Monsieur, we are not here to stop you getting married." D'Artagnan assured him.

"Trust me, nothing will stop that." He drew out a sword.

"St-Pierre!" Pauline rushed to his side.

"There must be another solution here." Aramis tried.

"Monsieur, stand down." Athos aimed his pistol at St-Pierre.

"Ah, really?" Aramis groaned.

"Really." Athos retorted.

"Aramis…" Emma started.

"You know I hate following orders." Aramis told them.

"Then don't make me give you one." Athos said.

"Then lower your pistol." Porthos left the room.

"I never ask three times, not of anyone."

Pauline pulled out the ring. "Fine. Here." Pauline threw the ring at them. "There. Take it, if it means that much to you."

Emmanuelle exhaled deeply as Pauline and St-Pierre left the room. And Aramis was left unscathed.

* * *

Bonnaire was thrown on the floor unceremoniously, at the King's feet.

"Your Majesty, your diamond and your thief." Athos stepped towards the Queen of England.

"My gardener?!" The Queen gasped.

"Forgive me, Ma'am." Bonnaire looked up at her. "I am the thief. But I am also the principal agent in the jewels' return."

"Hang him." Her Majesty ordered.

"I could double your money for you."

"Hang him now."

"Double your money."

"Surely, if he could accomplish that, Ma'am…" The Queen's personal maid started.

"Don't trust him. Every breath is a lie." Athos warned her.

"He must have the money he made from the sales." The maid suggested.

"Yes!" Bonnaire exclaimed. "Yes, I do." Bonnaire stood up, Porthos came up behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder. Bonnaire went back on his knees. "Now, you have the diamonds back, you might sell them…again. Thereby all but doubling your money."

"We'd better send for your partner, then." Porthos said.

"Partner?" The King repeated.

"He has a partner." D'Artagnan confirmed.

"And they have the money." Emma added.

"There shall be no bargaining." The Queen of England said. "Give me your sword and I will execute him myself." She marched onto Emma.

"Wait, wait, wait." The King stopped her. "Look, double the money means double the arms for soldiers. And I, for one, would like to see you win your war, Henrietta-Maria."

"He betrayed me."

"Hm. And yet, he has the means to keep England safe." The King countered.

The Queen reluctantly turned to Bonnaire. "Show me this partner."

There was a long silence that followed. All of them waiting for Bonnaire's answer. Tears gathered in his eyes. And he shook his head. "I fear that is something I cannot do."

"Give me your sword." The Queen Henrietta asked again.

"Emile, you fool!" The Queen's personal maid threw herself at Bonnaire.

"Caroline…it is you who are the fool, my love." Bonnaire answered. Emma's eyes fell shut. She could feel a headache coming up. "What have you done?" He turned to the Queen. "This was my plan. My idea. I was only trying to make a better life for my wife."

"You're married? Without my permission?" Henrietta-Maria exclaimed.

"Hang me twice over, but not Caroline." Bonnaire continued. "Please, I beg of you. She kept your favorite ring. That was her idea, not mine."

"Bonnaire, do you have the money?" The King asked him.

"I do, it lies hidden."

"Musketeers, take him and retrieve it." The King ordered them.

"Louis!"

"Look, don't let your ager outwit your good sense." The King reasoned his sister.

Caroline sobbed as they pulled Bonnaire away from her. "I petition the Queen!" He cried as the musketeers pulled him outside of the court room. "I demand immunity from prosecution."

"You demand?!"

"Petition…to demand." Bonnaire corrected. "Not a penny crosses anyone's palm…till you let Caroline walk free, and me with her."

"Agreed." Henrietta-Maria said. "But you shall never set foot in England again."

"I can promise you, Ma'am, that will never happen." Bonnaire bowed to her. "God save you! God save you!"

* * *

Emma didn't think it was possible to hate Bonnaire any more than she did. But there she was, amongst dead men, hating him more. Why did he have to hide his money with the dead men? Of all places, why this one? She didn't want to do this. She knew too well what death smelled like. And she would have loved to not be reminded of that.

"Down amongst the dead men." Aramis joined them.

"Look at it all. You could live like a King." D'Artagnan said pointing at the amount of money they already uncovered.

"What of us?" Caroline asked her husband.

"We have the Queen's pardon, Caroline." Bonnaire replied.

"But not theirs." She reminded him. "Who would know if we ended up in this grave?"

Aramis pulled out his musket. "Are we doing this?"

"Comrades…" Bonnaire started.

"Don't push it." Athos warned him.

"Mush as it pains me to say, he did save my life." D'Artagnan said.

"Assuming he wasn't aiming at you." Athos retorted. "Porthos?"

They tensely waited for his answer. Until he planted his dagger in the ground next to him. Indication of him agreeing to letting Bonnaire and Caroline go. Emma could feel everyone's eyes on her. She hadn't given an answer yet.

She exhaled deeply. "It would hurt me to kill now. After I saved your life."

"Well, that's settled, then. Wonderful." Bonnaire and Caroline stood up. "Gentlemen…it remains for me to say…" He extended his hand. "…All for one…" The Musketeers glared at him threateningly. "Yeah, run."

And this was the last they would ever see of Emile and Caroline Bonnaire.

* * *

"Emma?" Constance sat next to the female musketeer.

Emma poured some wine for Constance. "Care to join me."

Constance took the goblet. "You told him, didn't you?"

"I did." She took a large gulp of her drink. "I was under the impression that he understood. But I feel as though I'm slowly losing him. Although, he says otherwise."

"You won't lose him. It will take time but you won't lose him." Constance reassured her. "Athos loves you."

"I know." She exhaled. "But I'm afraid that...we won't be the same."

"Would it be a bad thing?"


End file.
